


Moonlighting

by WildClover27 (PrairieFlower)



Category: Garrison's Gorillas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:00:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22926052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrairieFlower/pseuds/WildClover27
Summary: While the guys are on a mission, Terry decides to go out on her own. Have they taught her well enough to keep out of trouble?
Comments: 11
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains big time spoilers for the episode Now I Lay Me Down to Die. I am just trying to keep my stories close to canon. Any non-canon characters are my own and not for use in other people’s stories.

Garrison sat on the hard metal bench in the waiting area on the sub. It seemed like he had just gotten off one, probably because he had. Tired, but slightly less angry than he had been, he looked around at his men. Casino and Goniff were asleep. Good thing, considering Goniff was prone to seasickness. Chief was sitting at the table, concentrating hard on cleaning his blade. The man did not like enclosed spaces. Then there was Actor.

The big Italian was sitting on the end of the opposite bench, unsmiling. His eyes, when they met Garrison’s, were hooded and brooding. Craig knew the man well enough by now to be certain the con man was unhappy with him, to say the least. Any other time, Garrison would have been amused at the thought of getting Actor away from a woman, but their situations were a little too alike right now.

Craig gave a jerk of his head toward the mess. Actor rose gracefully to his feet despite the movement of the floor and followed the lieutenant into the mess, the expression on his face unchanged. The Italian took a seat at the empty table while Garrison obtained two mugs of coffee. One mug was set on the table and pushed over in front of the con man. Craig sat down and took a sip of his coffee.

“I suppose you didn’t get any sleep either,” said Garrison casually. “Guess I’m a little out of sorts.”

“I imagine for the same reason I am,” said Actor smoothly, taking a sip of his coffee.

Craig had to keep himself from looking incredulously at the man. Was there nothing he could keep from the Italian? And just how much did he know? “Why would you say that?” he asked casually.

“Really, Lieutenant,” said Actor with a knowing look. “Having your plans abruptly changed regarding military matters causes you some amount of annoyance, but not to this extent. Might I assume my activities of the night were a bit more successful than yours?”

“You might assume nothing,” replied Craig with a touch of sharpness.

Actor raised one eyebrow over the top of the coffee mug in his hand, his suspicions confirmed. “You really should not have sent Teresa.”

“Probably not,” agreed Garrison, a wicked grin crossing his face. “But she should not have included herself in your leave.”

“She was invited,” said Actor. His eyes narrowed, “After all this time, do you really think we would harm her?”

“No,” admitted Garrison. He decided to steer the conversation away from family and personal matters. “You missed the briefing. I’ll fill you in.”

Garrison proceeded to inform his second of the man from the OSS who had been captured by the Germans. They were to get him out or make sure he didn’t talk. Craig preferred the first alternative as he knew his con man did also. They were going to a village, on a small fishing boat. Did Actor know how to pilot a sail boat? Of course, he did. Stupid question, but Garrison had to be sure. They would have to wait for information from their contact before devising a plan to free the agent named Charlie.

Both men sat back and slowly finished their coffee. There would be no sleep for either of them. 

“It was a most pleasurable evening . . . night . . . morning . . .,” mused Actor, “until Teresa arrived.”

Garrison’s eyes shot up and he watched the con man narrowly.

Actor seemed unaware of the reaction. “Yes, a delightful dinner, with a lovely companion who proved most accommodating in the bedroom afterwards.”

“I’m happy for you,” said Craig sarcastically, knowing what the con man was doing.

“Really, Warden?” Actor pushed his chair back and left Garrison glaring at his back as he stepped out of the mess.

Craig didn’t have to see the Italian’s face to know there was a smirk on it. As they said, payback was a . . . He couldn’t wait to see what his sister cooked up to get even for his sending her to retrieve Actor from his little love nest. Terry would wait until Craig’s guard was down . . . and then nail him.

GGGGG

In the early morning hours, as Craig and his men were leaving the sub and climbing aboard a small single-masted sailing vessel, Terry rolled over in her nice warm bed and stretched. She had retired early and decided to get up and get a head start on the day’s activities. She figured the men would be gone for a couple days. If she got the household chores out of the way, she would have the mansion to herself. She got up, showered leisurely for water rationing, dressed in her pants and boots and a blouse and went downstairs to make herself some breakfast. 

As always when the men were away, the house seemed cavernous and empty. At least it made it easier to get some work done. She washed up her few dirty dishes and retrieved the big wicker basket from the laundry room. Trudging back upstairs, she started hauling the dirty clothes back down. After sorting them into piles on the side table, she started a load of whites, sat down at the table and started to read a book on military strategy and tactics from West Point that she had ‘borrowed’ from Craig’s office. The noisy machine received a glare from Terry’s jaundiced eye. This wasn’t the brand of washer they had on the ranch. Terry didn’t trust it not to gobble up some of the clothes.

The strategies and tactics provided in the book had Terry shaking her head. Used to the type of warfare the group was waging, this made no sense. If Craig had been following the teachings of the Point, they would all be dead by now. Honor and ethics were okay, but not against a military force that displayed neither. The army couldn’t seem to get a good grasp of guerrilla tactics. It made her suddenly wonder what this was doing to Craig’s mind. Brought up from childhood with “The West Point Way”, he now had to learn a whole new way of doing things that was 180 degrees different. Gee, maybe she should cut him some slack . . . no. She went back to her reading.

The first load had finished in the wash, been through the mangle, and returned to the tub with clean rinse water to which had been added a Reckitt’s blue bag. Heaven forbid Actor’s dress shirt and unmentionables should not be blued to a brilliant white. Terry outright giggled at that thought. While the others made do with army issue, the con man had specially ordered white fine cotton undergarments. The girl wondered what the Germans would think if they ever managed to get Actor down to his drawers.  
The load was halfway through the rinse when the phone rang. Terry laid her book down, gave the washer a warning look, and went to answer the phone.

“Brandonshire Zoo,” she said.

“It’s too quiet. They must be gone.” Shiv was on the other end.

“Good deduction,” replied Terry.

“Can you come to the Fox?” the male voice said conspiratorially.

“Not right now. I can this afternoon when the laundry’s on the line to dry.” Terry frowned. “We can’t be that busy.”

Shiv let the ‘we’ pass. He was the only one connected with the pub that knew Terry had bought into half of it. “No. We just need to talk. I got a proposition for you.”

“Jake Dear,” said Terry wryly. “I am done being propositioned by you.”

“Yeah,” he said sourly. “Now you’re with that old Casanova.”

“Not you too?” objected Terry in disgust. “I swear I am going to have it tattooed on my forehead, ‘I am not sleeping with Actor’.” She shivered involuntarily as Elizabeth’s advice flashed through her mind, but she pushed it away irritably.

“Yet,” said her former lover with emphasis.

“Knock it off, Jake,” said Terry, “or I won’t come in this afternoon.”

“Just teasing,” said the man quickly.

“Yeah, well, from this end it’s not funny.” Terry made a face. “You don’t have to deal with Craig.”

“Just come in as soon as you can,” said Shiv, back to business. “It’s kind of important.”

Terry wondered for the rest of the morning just what could be so important at the Fox. A little after the noon crowd had left, Terry drove into Brandonshire to satisfy her curiosity. She entered a completely empty pub and took a seat at the bar. The bar stools were the only concession that the pub was run by Yanks.

Shiv’s blue eyes twinkled at her. He reached under the bar and came up with a dark bottle. Reaching behind for a beer glass, he opened the bottle and poured it into the glass, creating a perfect foam head. This was set in front of a dubious Terry. The liquor was the color of molasses.

“What’s that?” she asked hesitantly.

“That, Me Girl, is Guinness.” Shiv grinned widely. “Good Irish stout. Got a shipment in from Ireland.”

Terry took a tentative sip. She puckered her lips. “That is warm and it tastes thick,” she complained. “You got some ice cubes?”

“In Guinness?” exclaimed Kit emerging from the back room. “Terry, that’s sacrilegious!”

“You drink this stuff?” Terry asked in disbelief.

“I’m learning,” admitted the other girl.

Shiv shook his head. “Come on Terry, you have more than a drop of Irish in you. This is the nectar of the peat bogs.”

“It tastes like it was fermented in the peat bog.” At the blond man’s sour look, Terry took another sip. “I’m trying.”

Shiv sat on a barstool in front of Terry watching her speculatively.

“What?” she asked warily.

“How many missions you been on with the hoods?” he asked.  
“Don’t call them that,” said Terry testily. “I don’t know. Five or six. Why?”

“Think you could go into France and pick up some information for me and bring it back out? Real easy. Go in, go in a shop, get a package, and get the hell out and back here. You’d be back in twenty-four hours.”

Kit stared at him like he had lost his mind.

“Every time Craig says a mission is going to be ‘real easy’ it turns into a disaster,” said Terry witheringly.

“I’m not your brother. I have easy missions.”

Terry eyed him suspiciously. “Okay, Jake, spill it. What are you into?”

The blond man smiled humorlessly. “Ever hear of Jaguar?” Terry stared at him. “I’m Jaguar.”

“I hope you’re joking,” said Terry. Great, she thought, and my other job is to tell Dad if I find out anything about Jaguar? He’ll blow a gasket if he finds out it’s Jake.

Nope,” grinned Shiv. “I need this information brought out and I have to be at another meeting outside Paris. Can you do it?”

Terry thought on it a moment. She had to somehow get over the fear she had when she went on a mission with the guys. The only way to take on a fear was to face it. What better way to face it than make herself go it alone? “As long as it isn’t anywhere near where Craig is going to be. Wouldn’t that be just great to run into him somewhere in Occupied France?”

“Great!” said Shiv. He looked at her speculatively. “We have to come up with a code name for you.”

“How about ‘Idiot’?” suggested Terry, sarcastically, taking a sip of the warm ale.

“Naw, too short over the radio.” Shiv thought on it. His eyes rested on the necklace Goniff had given her that was hanging around her neck. “How about ‘Four Leaf Clover’?”

Terry made a face. “That is a stupid name for an operative.”

“You think Jaguar isn’t a stupid name for a resistance group?” countered Shiv.

“Fine. Clover it is,” Terry muttered. “Stick me in a pasture and let cows eat me.”

“I wish you hadn’t put it quite like that,” said Shiv. “You’ll jinx yourself.”

“I think you’re both out of your frigging minds!” exclaimed Kit. She rounded on her girlfriend. “You have a death wish or something? You trying to get yourself killed?”

“It’s not exactly on my agenda,” said Terry with a faint grin. “I know how to do a pickup. What’s the difference if I do it for Jake or do it with Craig?”

“At least with Craig you got five big strong . . . well, four and a half . . . men to take care of you.” Kit tried to talk some sense into her friend.

“Don’t count Goniff out,” shot back Terry hotly in the Limey’s defense. “He’s stronger than he looks.”

“Terry!” Kit looked at the other girl in frustration.

Terry sighed. “I can do it. I need to do it.”

“Why?” The carrot haired woman just could not understand what was going through her girlfriend’s mind.

“I have my reasons,” answered Terry vaguely, but with enough conviction to cause the Gallagher girl to shake her head. Turning back to Shiv, Terry said, “Okay, but get me in and get me back out before Craig gets back.”

Shiv grinned humorlessly. “I’ll pick you up at two in the morning. We can go across the Channel together. I’ll brief you on the way over. You’ll come back by yourself. It’s all arranged.”

“Pretty sure of me, weren’t you?” asked Terry wryly.

“I know you, remember?” was the response. “Can you look like a peasant?”

“I’ve been watching Actor with the makeup,” replied Terry steadily. “I can probably make myself look like Hitler’s mother if I had to.”

“Yeah, well, let’s not get carried away.”

“I think you both have already gotten carried away,” grumbled Kit.

“That attitude and the color of your hair is why I don’t teach you,” teased Shiv affectionately, giving the flaming redhead a kiss on the forehead.

“Her hair’s red too,” objected Kit.

“Not like yours.”

GGGGG

About the time Terry was defending Goniff, Garrison and his men were sitting in a stolen car with the agent, Charlie, whom they had just rescued from the hospital, watching the Englishman get himself captured at the door of the hospital. Over heated objections from Casino, the army officer ordered Chief to drive away. There wasn’t anything they could do for the pickpocket right now, he told them, and the mission was to rescue Charlie, so they drove to the safe house where Casino continued to protest loudly.

Craig was as upset as Casino but didn’t show it. This mission had been a screw up from the start. Their target had tried to escape his captors and only succeeded in getting himself shot and confined to a hospital where the Germans continued to interrogate him. Okay, change in plans, they had rescued Charlie from the hospital, only to lose Goniff. To make matters worse, once they got to the safe house, Charlie had tried to blow his head off with Garrison’s gun. It seemed Charlie had already cracked and given the German officer, Krueger, information that compromised the Allies’ communication system and put the lives of thirty-five agents in imminent danger. Could it get any worse? Garrison had a feeling it was going to.


	2. Chapter 2

The world-weary French woman sat on top of a crate, arms wrapped around her knees, smelly blanket over the front of her. The only light was from a small oil lamp attached to the wall. Fishing boats and subs, Terry was beginning to hate them both. One stunk of diesel and bilge and the other one stunk of fish. The rocking and rolling wasn’t pleasant either. 

A foray into the supply of theatrical makeup in Actor’s bedroom had changed the identity of the young woman to blend into the background. Terry had used the con man’s supplies to make herself look ten years older and even more aged from the stress of living in poverty and fear. 

She glanced at the blond man seated on a crate facing her. Closer to Craig’s age than Actor’s, the face was beginning to show the strain of a life that had not gone as smoothly as planned. The blond hair was starting to show signs of gray at too young in years. She still felt an affection and affinity for the man, but the lust and desire seemed to have fallen by the wayside. She was truly glad Jake had formed a relationship with Kit. They both needed somebody and had managed to find that somebody in each other.

“How did you get yourself mixed up in this?” she asked in wonder.

“Nicky,” replied Jake. 

“Nicky?” Terry was confused. “I thought Nicky was OSS?”

“He was,” said Shiv, looking at a spot on the floor. “Little Brother was moonlighting. I started working with him. When he was killed, I took over the operation.”

“Okay,” said Terry. “But Jaguar? Couldn’t you come up with a better name?

Shiv laughed in remembrance. “We were drunk. Couldn’t come up with anything. Nick thought of it. You know big stealthy predator, sneaky but ready to pounce. We thought we were going to pounce on the Krauts. Instead, the Krauts pounced on Nick.”  
Terry watched him. The pain over the loss of his younger brother was still strong in the man. “I’m sorry Jake,” she said softly.

Shiv shrugged it off. “Yeah, well, as they say, shit happens.”

A sudden thought had Terry straightening. “You don’t have Chris working for you, do you?”

“No,” reassured the man. “You and Craig would turn me into dog food if I let anything happen to Chris.”

“Oh, Chris is kept safe and I’m expendable. That it?” said Terry accusingly, tempering it with a grin.

Jake chuckled. “You can take care of yourself.”

“I used to think so,” replied Terry soberly.

Jake eyed her. “That’s what this is about, isn’t it? You need to prove yourself.”

“Something like that.” Now Terry examined a spot on the floor.

“To who?”

“To me.”

Shiv shook his head. I don’t know what you think you have to prove. Half the time you live in the same house with those guys. They’re dangerous men.”

Terry gave an affectionate laugh. “They aren’t as bad as everybody thinks.”

“Terr, they are like some of what we dealt with in New York. They’re killers, they’re thieves, one was ‘em’s family is mob. You remember how bad the mobsters were who came to our club. They – are – dangerous.”

The girl shrugged. “So’s Craig then. He keeps them in line . . . kind of.”

Jake looked at her in frustration. “Goniff’s a nut,” he conceded. “The Indian I wouldn’t want to meet in a dark alley.” Terry immediately thought of her sister in a dark theater with Chief and a quirky little smile graced her lips. “Casino and I are gonna come to blows one of these days. And that big Italian is probably the worst of the lot. I wouldn’t trust that one any farther than I could throw him.”

“Actor? I trust him with my life,” Terry said softly. She brightened. “I’d trust all of them with my life.”

As Shiv had said before, he did know Terry. He had dated her for two years when they worked as surgeon and nurse at the hospital in New York and lived with her for a year after that as a friend and lover. “Something between you and the Italian?”

Boy, she wished everyone would quit asking her that. “Just a good working relationship,” she replied. “He’s the best in the business and I’m learning from him.”

Jake wondered just what all she was learning from the man. The times he had encountered the suave Italian, the man seemed to exude the confidence of a very dominant and self-assured male. Jake couldn’t help but wonder at the comparison Terry had made between the two of them if she had indeed slept with the confidence man.

Terry stifled a grin. She knew Jake well too, and he hadn’t earned the nickname “Shiv” by carrying an eating utensil. Terry decided it was time to change the subject. She cocked her head and asked, “Is it safe to talk shop here?” 

The man nodded. “Yeah, they’re all my people.”

“So, tell me about your set up.”

They spent the next hour discussing the mechanics of the underground. Terry listened carefully, making mental notes to herself. Jake may have been a good surgeon, but she wondered about his ability as an underground leader. As she asked questions, she began to reach a conclusion that the man didn’t know how to set up his arteries, veins and capillaries in a cohesive manner. Jaguar was small, and though its people were effective, the operation had so much more potential. She gave a mental shake of her head. She had been learning the planning and execution too long from Craig and Actor. Well, now that she had been introduced to Jaguar, she wanted to be a part of it and maybe she could slowly and carefully integrate some input into its set up. Somewhere, the part about informing General William Garrison had fallen by the wayside.

GGGGG

Garrison was semi-sprawled in a chair, the tip of his cigarette glowing in the dark, as he went over the events of the day in his mind. He was worried, an understatement, about Goniff. Their contact, Kronman, had brought information that the Englishman had been moved to a Wehrmacht prison for interrogation. So far Goniff had not broken. Garrison just worried what interrogation was still being done to the pickpocket. Charlie had revealed a code interpreter was coming to break the code he had given up. The code experts were supposed to arrive in the morning. The only hope Garrison had was to intercept the officers and he and Actor would take their places. Once inside the compound, they would have to improvise. 

Craig gazed slowly around the room. Charlie was asleep in another chair by the fireplace. Casino was snoring quietly on the couch. Chief was outside, making a circle around the perimeter on guard duty. Another glowing cigarette tip in a chair across the room revealed Actor was getting no more rest than his commanding officer.

GGGGG

The sun was coming up as Terry and Jake disembarked from the fishing boat. It was a typical little French coastal village, the shops along the waterfront just opening to start the new day, the cold shadows on the sidewalk slowly melting east toward the buildings as the warm sun made them recede. The air on the dock smelled of fish and resounded with the shouts and calls of rough men unloading their catches in crates alongside their boats. Shiv’s boot heels clapped on the wooden boards beneath his feet.  
The two of them made their way through the organized chaos on the wharf until they reached the street that led to the train depot. Jake stayed outside the entrance to smoke a cigarette, while Terry walked inside as though she did not know him.   
A quick sweep of the interior with her eyes showed Wehrmacht soldiers along the platform. There didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary, just the usual routine of watching for suspicious people. Terry worked her way through the scattering of old men and women with children to the ticket booth. She gave the agent a tired smile and asked for round trip tickets to Briant in the name of Josette DiCaldo. She wondered if her mother would find it amusing her cover name was her mother’s maiden name. Probably not. She paid for the tickets with francs. Tucking the tickets in her bag with her forged papers, she wandered over to take a seat on the end of a bench to wait for her train.

After about ten minutes, Shiv walked past with no acknowledgement between them. He went out to the platform and boarded a train to Paris after showing his papers to a couple German soldiers. 

A half hour later, Terry’s train boarded. She calmly showed her papers to the soldiers and got in one of the cars with no problem. Settling herself next to the window, she breathed a sigh of relief. That relief was short lived as the door to the compartment opened and an SS colonel and his aide, a major, entered and took seats across from each other. 

The colonel removed his hat and laid it on the seat beside him, revealing blond hair and brilliant blue eyes. Terry watched him with an air of abstract curiosity. He nodded to her and she nodded back.

“Guten Tag, genädige Frau,” he said.

Terry looked blankly at him.

The colonel tilted his head and looked at her speculatively. “Deutsch?” he asked.

Terry shook her head, showing just the right amount of apprehension at the attention from the officer.

He tried again. “English?”

She shook her head again. The colonel gave a derisive smile and made a remark in German to his companion about the stupidity of the French peasants. Terry turned her head away to look out the window as the train pulled out of the station. Merda, of all the compartments on the train, she had to get one with SS.

The journey lasted two hours. In that time, the two officers discussed plans for the invasion of an area in Yugoslavia. Terry’s eyes showed nothing as she gazed out the window, but her ears were acutely tuned to the conversation. In her mind, she regarded the German officers with disgust. Craig and Actor wouldn’t risk talking so openly even if they were convinced the woman in the corner was deaf and dumb. This was information that needed to be relayed to Allied Command, but she wasn’t sure how she could do that. It would have to wait until she got back to England. It was noon by the time they reached their destination.

GGGGG

In another part of Europe, Craig and Actor were dressed as German officers and Chief as their driver, the two officers stopping all cars on the road and demanding identification. It seemed the resistance was impersonating German officers and they were planning on infiltrating the nearby village. Craig inspected one set of papers, returned them and waved the car on. A few minutes later, it was Actor’s turn. He hit the jackpot. The colonel handed him his papers with an air of annoyance at the delay and inconvenience. This was the Colonel Bruenner, a cryptologist from German Intelligence, they were looking for. Within short order, the colonel and his major were in the hands of the Resistance. It would have been better if Actor could have played the role of the colonel, but the man was short and his major was tall. As it was, the clothes were almost a tight fit for Garrison and Actor managed to look the part of the major even though the pants were a bit high-watered inside the tall black boots that cramped his toes. They reached the camp where Goniff was being held in the early afternoon.

Col. Krueger was at his desk, finishing a lunch that showed no sign of the rationing and lack of good meat and vegetables that was prevalent throughout Europe. Garrison played his role to perfection, showing a delighted enthusiasm for the code key the colonel provided. His delight turned to anger when he was informed the prisoner had escaped. Krueger was quick to inform Colonel Bruenner there was another American prisoner for him to interrogate. It was difficult for Garrison and Actor to maintain an air of disinterest when Krueger opened a door off his office to reveal a battered, bruised and bleeding Goniff tied to a chair. The Englishman was semi-conscious. Craig and Actor had simultaneously pasted on smiles by the time Krueger turned around seeking their approval.

They all stepped into the interrogation room. Actor hung back a bit. He wanted to position himself behind Krueger in case they needed to take him out. A slightly concerned expression crossed his face as he studied Goniff, attempting to ascertain how injured the pickpocket was. Goniff made no acknowledgement of their presence. Craig spoke harshly to him in German-accented English. When Goniff did not respond, Garrison grabbed him viciously by the hair and jerked his head back asking him in accented tones if he understood. Goniff’s eyes focused on the lieutenant’s face but did not register any comprehension. Craig repeated slowly and distinctly that the American would have one hour to think about his situation and if he did not talk at the end of that hour, he would be shot. Garrison, while still not sure Goniff had understood what he was saying, knew he could do no more; to continue would seem – suspicious. He released the handful of fair hair and turned to Krueger. “One hour.” 

Krueger wanted to continue the interrogation.

“No, no Colonel,” said Craig in the accented English. “I suggest we give him an hour to think about it. I have a feeling he will change his mind.” Goniff had looked up and then dropped his head back down. “Do you understand?” continued Garrison. “One hour. You will talk then, or you will be shot.”

Actor had stepped closer. Goniff had glanced at him briefly before dropping his head. The con man could not be sure if it was an act, or if the pickpocket really was not aware of what was going on. 

Garrison and Actor left, with Chief driving them back to the safe house to set up the next phase of their plan.

GGGGG

Terry, relieved to have left her traveling companions behind, slowly made her way into the town. Eyes scoping out the area, she wandered down the sidewalk toward the church a few blocks away, identifying the bakery along the way where she would later make the pickup. The village of Briant had not escaped the Allied bombings and the German takeover undamaged. The far end of a block, at right angles to the one she was on, was littered with piles of bricks and debris. The church seemed to be unscathed . . . so far.

Stepping into the cool interior of the church, Terry touched fingers to the top of the holy water by the door and crossed herself. It was beginning to feel sacrilegious considering the commandments she had broken so far and continued to break. Pushing that thought aside, she moved a third of the way down the aisle, pausing to genuflect before taking a seat on one of the hard, wooden pews. Terry lowered herself to the kneeler and sent a prayer for the safety of her brother and his men. Pulling a rosary from her bag, she sat and pretended to do a novena while her eyes scanned the sanctuary. It was amazing how Actor could come up with these tidbits of tradecraft, bless his larcenous little soul. A quirky smile was quickly suppressed. After a half hour, she decided she had not been followed. 

Leaving the relative safety of the church, Terry started back down the street, stopping in front of shop windows. She had brought her own francs with her and needed to buy some items to cover the exchange at the bakery. Perusing a vegetable stand, she selected an almost decent head of cabbage. If she needed to use the bag as a weapon, there was nothing like a solid head of cabbage to pack a wallop. To the cabbage was added a head of broccoli and some spring onions.

The young woman’s head was down, seemingly pulled into herself, but her eyes were constantly and stealthily surveying her surroundings. Though appearing to be calm, her nerves were still on edge. It never left her mind she was without any form of backup. So far, everything was going without a hitch. She could only hope it stayed that way. Glancing at the clock tower, she realized it was now time to make the pickup. Terry paused on the curb and surveyed the area around her. The bakery was across the street. If she were to get caught, there was no one to rescue her. And if she were caught a number of people would lose their lives along with hers.

Terry was not consciously thinking of Actor’s lessons, but she was learning well from the confidence man. She maintained her persona of a poor peasant woman, trying to find food for her nearly-starving children. Her husband had been sent to Germany and she did not understand why. She had gone from a somewhat comfortable life to one of fear and deprivation. She was afraid of the Boche, never knowing what they might do. Things were so bad in France now the threat of someone stealing her meager food purchases kept the bag of vegetables in her arms and not hanging by the straps. Her hooded eyes spotted a pair of German soldiers approaching. Time to go. Terry took a deep breath and stepped off the curb.


	3. Chapter 3

Garrison took a deep breath to keep from reacting in worried frustration at the delay in their plans. He, Actor and Chief were on their way back to the German camp to prevent the execution of Goniff. Now the road was blocked by a stalled vehicle with an inept soldier who could not get it started.

Craig was standing in front of the supply truck, watching Chief who had half crawled into the big engine. The Indian had been working on the truck for ten minutes now. Each precious minute of delay put Goniff that much closer to losing his life, something Garrison found unacceptable. He shot a glance at Actor. The con man was standing straight and calm where he could see Chief and the driver of the truck. His countenance was stoic, but Craig knew the Italian well enough to note the tension in him, betrayed by the glances at his watch and a slight twitch of the corner of his mouth.

For the fifth time, Chief waved a hand back at Actor. “Noch ‘mal,” the tall man instructed the driver.

This time the engine fired and caught. Craig could not suppress the flash of a triumphant grin before Chief leapt down from the fender and slammed the hood shut. The three jumped unceremoniously into their car. Chief started it and slammed it into reverse with a tromp on the gas pedal, sending the vehicle careening back into the trees and forcing the two officers in the back to duck forward, holding their hats on to keep from getting brained by a low hung branch. As the big truck lumbered past, Chief gunned the engine and they raced forward, trying to make up for lost time.

Goniff paused at the top of the steps leading to the yard. He glanced around, squinting in the sun with burning eyes, from a battered face. He saw no sign of Garrison or Actor. That bloody well wasn’t a good thing. Even worse was the line of soldiers with rifles lined up before the far wall. Something must have gone wrong. The Warden wouldn’t leave him like this, not if he could in any way help it. His mortality hit him like a rock. If something didn’t happen in the next few minutes, he was going to die. There was no way he was going to give up his mates, the lieutenant being included in that group. Well, if the ruddy Krauts thought they were going to scare him into breaking, they had better be thinkin’ again. Taking a deep breath, he walked down the steps, rifle pressed into his back by his escort, toward whatever his destiny would be.

The Englishman was pushed up against the wall and left to face his executioners. The roar of a racing engine reached him, and he glanced toward the entrance barely allowing himself to hope as the big Mercedes staff car slid to a halt behind the riflemen. Garrison and Actor jumped out and walked up to Col. Krueger. Goniff’s eyes never left them as they were his only hope of salvation. He did not see the apprehensive look on Chief’s face from the front seat of car, nor could he see the Indian’s hand resting on the schmeisser, muzzle resting on the door frame next to him.

“Well?” asked Garrison in heavily accented English.

Krueger looked at the Englishman, “Unfortunately, he still refuses to talk.”

All three of them watched Goniff for a moment before Garrison calmly spoke, “Then shoot him.”

Goniff’s expression never changed, but his eyes did not leave Garrison’s. He saw the faint blink of both eyes and the miniscule nod of the head. Krueger told his men to get ready. The pickpocket shot a quick glance to see the rifles being raised to chest level before returning his eyes to the Warden. The same blink and nod told him to stay steady. That was extremely hard to do when Krueger told his men to take aim, but he trusted Garrison. A more pronounced blink and nod gave him the signal he was looking for.  
“No, wait!” shouted Goniff. “I’ll tell you.”

Garrison’s eyes closed in relief.

“Come here,” commanded Krueger.

Goniff walked forward. Garrison had blown out a fine breath through barely parted lips. Actor’s expression remained unchanged, but his eyes were darting between the three men in front of him.

“You will take us to the agent,” instructed Krueger.

A nod from the Warden had Goniff replying, “Yes.”

Krueger looked at Garrison. “Seems you were right about him.”

Craig simply gave a confident smile in acknowledgement. In short order, Goniff was placed in the back seat of the staff car, flanked on his right by Actor and on his left by Krueger. Garrison was in the front next to Chief. They left in the direction of the safe house, followed by a covered truck carrying personnel.

As they drove along, Goniff remained silent and looked straight ahead. He had never thought about it before, but having the big, confident Italian sitting beside him made him less fearful. Not that he would ever admit that to Actor.

They traveled on for a couple miles before rounding a curve and crossing a small bridge. A sudden explosion behind them had Chief pulling to a stop and them looking back to see the transport truck engulfed in smoke. When Krueger turned back it was to find himself facing Garrison’s gun over the back of the front seat and Actor’s gun aimed at his chest. There were wicked grins on the faces of both men. Chief jumped out of the car with the schmeisser and ran back to help Casino finish off the soldiers who had left the burning vehicle and were trying to shoot the safecracker.

Goniff sat back with a big smile. Actor grinned wolfishly at the German colonel and without changing his gaze said to Goniff, “Would you like a gun, Goniff?”

“Oh, thanks very much,” replied the pickpocket, reaching for the pistol in Actor’s hand.

“Not this one, Stupid,” the con man motioned with his head for Goniff to take the colonel’s gun.

Goniff pulled it from the shoulder holster and aimed it at the German’s waist. Chief got back behind the wheel and Casino jumped up on the running board next to Garrison. They drove on until they reached a small clearing where Casino had left the other car with Charlie. Now all they had to do was get through the roadblock that was further down the road.

GGGGG

Terry entered the boulangerie and paused to look around. The shelves were almost empty at this late hour, everything usually being sold out in the early morning hours. Even so, there were still two people making purchases, an elderly woman and an even more ancient man. Both wore clean clothing that had multicolored patches. Terry kept her head bowed and slowly wandered up and down the glass display cases, looking at the few rolls and crackers that were left. A few round and oblong loaves of bread remained on mostly empty shelves along the back walls.

Finally, the shop emptied out. Terry approached the baker, giving him a small smile. He was a gray-haired man of indeterminate age, wearing a once white apron over his outer clothes. There were stains and flour on the apron and the parts of his clothing that were not covered. Her heart felt like it was racing, but she managed to speak calmly.

“It is a lovely spring day, is it not?” she began the code in French.

“Yes, it is,” replied the baker. “I believe I saw a patch of wild clover this morning.”

Terry’s smile widened a little. “If you look carefully, you might find a four-leaf-clover. I hear they bring good luck.”

“We could all use some good luck, Madame DiCaldo,” the baker replied. He lowered his voice. “I have your order already packaged in the back.”

Terry watched with distrust and apprehension as he disappeared into the backroom. If this was a set up, the betrayal would come now. She would be captured, imprisoned, tortured and killed. God, how could Craig and Actor seem so blasé when they did this? She was practically shaking in her clogs, though she was somehow managing not to show it. Sometimes she wondered if they were ever afraid. In a matter of seconds, the man returned with a small cardboard box fastened shut with butcher’s twine. He handed it over the counter to her and waited until she put it in her bag. Terry pulled her coin purse from her skirt pocket and removed some francs. 

As he took the money and made change at his cash register, he said softly, “There is a false bottom to the box. Your papers are underneath it.” He turned with a smile and said, “Thank you for your business.”

Terry smiled back and said ,”Merci.”

“Je vous souhaite la chance, Madame.” 

“A vous aussi, Monsieur.” 

With a slight lowering of her head before she left the shop, Terry adopted the demeanor of a dog who thought it might be kicked at any time. She moved slowly down the sidewalk in the direction of the train station. She still had an hour’s wait until her train was due. There was a little park beside the station with a small pond and a couple of benches. She chose a bench where she had a view of the station and the road, lowering herself with an appearance of weariness, the bag held securely on her lap.

A pair of mallard ducks swam up to look at her. Under other circumstances, she would have taken some of the rolls in the box and tossed bits to the birds. However, that waste of food would draw attention to herself. Instead, she spoke quietly to the birds in French.

“Sorry, I have nothing for you. You had better fly away. You are no longer pretty birds, you are meat, My Friends.”

A half hour later, Terry walked over to the train station. Her heart jumped up to her throat. The depot was filled with soldiers, Gestapo, and SS, searching everybody’s belongings and scrutinizing papers. Carefully, she took a seat on a nearby bench and pulled her papers from her bag. As she sat and waited for her train to arrive, she scanned the faces of the SS officers, looking for the two who had arrived with her. So far, they were not there. Terry wondered if the search was for her or some other poor soul.

All too quickly, her train arrived. There was no more putting it off. Actor had taught her how to do this and she had watched him enough times. The worn look etched itself into her face again and she stood, walking toward her train.

An SS major and lieutenant stopped her. The senior officer asked her destination in German. Again, she pretended to not understand the language, but held her papers and the ticket out to him. They were taken from her hand and read, one eye being kept on her, the lieutenant also watching her. The hangdog expression never left her face, but there was just the right amount of apprehension that, the truth be told, was not faked.

“Search her bag,” the major told the lieutenant in German.

The officer snatched Terry’s bag from her. Her eyes darted back and forth between the two men, a frown now openly on her face. The lieutenant pawed through her bag and pulled out the bakery box. He shoved the bag back at her, retaining the box, and pulling a knife out of his pocket to cut the string with. Terry watched in apprehensive fascination as he opened the lid and looked inside.


	4. Chapter 4

Garrison and the men reached the roadblock, all trying to look as though nothing was amiss. Krueger was very cooperative in ordering the soldier to allow them through. It might have had something to do with Actor’s gun lying on the con man’s lap, pointed at him, and Goniff’s gun sticking into his side at kidney level. Of course, nothing could ever go smoothly. Another soldier in the guard booth was talking on the phone. Garrison watched worriedly.

The man stepped out of the booth and yelled not to let Oberst Krueger through, the other men were prisoners in German uniforms. Everyone on both sides froze and stared at each other. Krueger gave a small satisfied smile. Two men on the back of a truck swung a .50 caliber machine gun around. Garrison shot them both dead and bailed out of the car. Chief, Actor and Goniff followed suit, leaving Krueger to take cover by laying on the seat in the back of the staff car.

Actor and Goniff ducked behind the back of the staff car, using it for cover, firing handguns. Casino left the other car to fire his schmeisser from behind some bushes, while Charlie took cover alongside the car, firing a handgun Casino had given him. Garrison and Chief took position behind a tree to the left of the others. Craig had his handgun and Chief a schmeisser.

It did not take Garrison long to figure out they were pinned down. The vehicles could not be turned around and there was no escape back the way they had come. There was a truck blocking the road in front of them, preventing their passage and a wide spread of soldiers arrayed behind sandbags and bushes firing machine guns and rifles at them.

“Warden! Let me try an’ get that truck outta here!” yelled Chief.

Garrison looked down at the Indian crouched to his right and up at the truck. It was dangerous, but there did not seem to be any other way. Craig handed his gun down. “All right, then give me the schmeisser!” They exchanged weapons and Garrison sprayed a covering fire as Chief sprinted to the near side of the truck. 

The returning gunfire was heavy, forcing Chief to remain crouched behind the cab and throw the passenger door open. Taking a deep breath to steel his nerves, he slid up into the front seat and behind the wheel, leaning as far back as possible to keep from being an easy target. In quick motions, Chief got the truck started and threw it in reverse. He backed up, clearing the road, but putting himself in a position of being a more open target. Great, he thought. Nothing to be gained by remaining where he was, the Indian flung himself toward the open side door. A bullet smashed through the windshield, shattering glass and deflecting to slice through his upper left arm as a still high-powered ricochet. Grabbing his arm, he fell out of the truck to roll away from the cab.

“Cover me!” yelled Garrison.

The others opened a barrage of gunfire while Craig sprinted out to Chief, grabbed the younger man under the arms and half dragged him back to the staff car. Taking advantage of the concentrated fighting, Krueger left the staff car and tried to get to relative safety. He had not banked on Charlie, who carefully aimed his pistol and with grim satisfaction shot the colonel in the back.

Actor leapt behind the wheel of the staff car and started it up. Garrison roughly shoved Chief into the back seat and climbed in behind, holding the scout down against the seat with one hand and providing cover with his body. Goniff jumped onto the running board on the right side of the car and crouched down. At the other car, Casino got behind the wheel with Charlie beside him. The two cars tore past the road block, Casino, Goniff and Craig providing cover fire. They made it through without further casualties.

GGGGG

The German lieutenant poked at the rolls inside of the bakery box with his knife, peering at each one carefully. Terry’s eyes moved between the two officers, her right hand slipping into the pocket in her skirt to finger the switchblade concealed there.

“Those are for my children,” said Terry in French, adopting a look that was half fearful and half defiant.

“What?” asked the major in confusion.

Terry gave him a frustrated look. With her left hand, she made a motion of having something in her fingers and bringing it to her mouth. “Food,” she said in exasperated sounding French, “For my children.” She motioned with the flat of her hand two stair steps.

The major seemed to understand that and glanced at his lieutenant. The man was apparently satisfied there was nothing in the box. Not bothering to tie it back up, the lieutenant shoved it back into the bag and held it out to the woman. Terry took it and held it possessively. She snatched her papers from the major’s hand and scurried toward to train.

Halfway down the line of cars, one of the doors was still open. Terry slipped into the empty compartment and pulled the door shut behind her. She collapsed onto the worn seat and leaned her head against the back cushion, pulling in a ragged breath. As she collected her shattered nerves, a small smile came to her lips. It really hadn’t gone that bad. She had pulled it off so far. The train was moving, and she was on it, she still had her parcel and the information for Jake. All she had to do was get back to the fishing boat and back to England.

The compartment door to the aisle opened. Terry looked up, fearing the worst, only to find an elderly couple who sat down on the opposite seat close to the aisle door. They all exchanged hesitant smiles and then ignored each other. 

Terry spent the train trip absently watching the scenery roll by, her mind on her brother and the guys. She wondered how they would react if they found out what she was doing. Craig would have a major blowup that would make the debacle in New York look like a minor spat. She wasn’t sure what Goniff’s reaction would be, approval or worry. Chief would probably just stoically shake his head and walk away. Casino would be loud and disapproving, calling her an idiot. Then there was Actor, who would be icily infuriated with her. For herself, a satisfied little smile crossed her face. She was doing it. It wasn’t over yet, but she was doing it and doing it on her own.

GGGGG

Actor drove the staff car at high speed, trying to put as much distance between them and the checkpoint as possible. He glanced at Goniff in the front seat beside him, studying Garrison’s map. When the Englishman told Actor to turn down what looked like barely more than a wide track, the Italian wasn’t sure he trusted the pickpocket’s navigational abilities, but he turned off the main road as instructed. Actor would be happy when the lieutenant was finished tending to Chief’s injury and either took over as driver or navigator.

Casino, following in the other car with Charlie, had serious doubts about their course too. How the dumb Limey had suddenly taken over directing them was beyond him. He wouldn’t admit he was glad Goniff had been rescued, even though he was, but he did have to admit this had turned into another one of those screwed up missions. Army Intelligence seemed to be full of people with little intelligence, the possible exception to that rule being the Warden. Casino wondered if any of those hotshot colonels and generals had ever even been in a war zone.

Garrison finished tying the gauze wrap around Chief’s left upper arm. The bullet had torn through the fleshy part of the Indian’s arm and missed the bone. Sulfa and a bandage would do until they got back to England. Craig helped the younger man get his injured arm back into the sleeve of his shirt. Typical of Chief, he had said nothing the whole time Garrison was working on him. As Craig put supplies back in the aid kit, he heard a softly spoken “Thanks, Warden.”

“Forget it,” Garrison brushed it off. He ducked as a branch almost walloped him in the face. “Actor, when you hit a wide spot, stop,” he instructed his second.

“It would be a pleasure,” muttered the Italian in frustration.

When they were finally able to stop, Garrison exchanged seats with Goniff. Actor was frowning over the map. He held it out when Craig climbed into the front seat.

“Where are we?” asked the lieutenant.

“I believe we are right about here,” the big Italian pointed to a spot.

Craig studied the map critically. It would not have been his first choice, but the tiny road looked to go where they wanted to, as long as it didn’t turn into a goat track forcing them to walk. Charlie, for all his participation at the roadblock, still had a gunshot wound to his side. Goniff was battered but moving well. And Chief’s arm was painful, but not too bad. Damn, the casualty rate wasn’t getting any better with these missions.

“Keep going,” he instructed Actor.

The con man merely nodded and started the engine. Due to Actor’s careful driving and Casino being used to similar conditions running booze during Prohibition, they reached the fishing village after dusk without mishap. The cars were ditched outside of town and they split up into groups of two, working their way stealthily through deserted dark streets to the safe house.

Their contact, Kronman, was waiting for them. He eyed the three injured men and shook his head, approaching Garrison. “You are late, My Friend,” he said. “It looks like you were very lucky to get out.”

“You could say that again, Mate,” piped up Goniff.

Craig ignored the interruption. “Can you still get us out?”

The old fisherman nodded. “You will leave at midnight on a fishing boat. The sub will return to meet you as planned.”

“Good. Thank you,” said Garrison.

Kronman smiled. “Rest now. I will have food brought to you.”

Actor remained busy, first changing the soiled bandage on Charlie’s side, then trying to repair some of the damage to Goniff’s face. The dressing on Chief’s arm was still fine.

Now that they were in relative safety, Casino had time to vent his frustration. “Hey, Warden. Another easy mission, huh?”

Craig gave him a tired, knock-it-off look. To his surprise, Chief picked up the conversation.

“Yeah, Warden. Whose brilliant planning was this one?”

“I don’t know,” replied the lieutenant. “Some new guy named Col. Yates. Haven’t met him yet.”

“I know I’d like to,” asserted the safecracker. “Tell him next time get his intelligence straight first.”

“Yeah,” said Goniff, around Actor’s ministrations. “He coulda bloody got us all killed.”

Though Craig agreed with his men, his West Point training kicked in to defend his commanding officer. “Maybe he wasn’t given the correct intelligence.”

Five pair of eyes swung up to look at him. Garrison ignored them, picked up one of their duffle bags and went to change out of the German uniform into fisherman clothes.

At midnight, the six men made their way stealthily to the dock and boarded the same little boat they had arrived on. This time there were two extra men, Charlie, and a local resistance man at the tiller who knew the canal they would leave through in the dark. Actor and Casino manned the oars.

GGGGG

Along another part of the French coast, Terry had already boarded the fishing boat she had arrived on and gone back below to claim her wonderfully comfortable crate. If they could get across the Channel without being stopped, strafed, or bombed, she would be home free. Well, almost home free. She had a suspicion it would be a close race between her and Craig as to who would reach the mansion first. As long as he didn’t stop at the Fox for any reason on the way back, she could always lie to him about her whereabouts. Terry hated lying to her brother, but there were things that Craig would be better off not aware of.

Once they were on the open Channel, Terry made her way up to the wheelhouse and borrowed a pencil and scrap of paper from the captain’s tally book. Returning to her crate, she began writing down the information that needed to get to G-2. Finished to her satisfaction, she opened the box of rolls and carefully separated the two bottoms, slipping her scrap of paper in with the one that was already there. She hoped Jake had a way of contacting the army with the information. She wondered how he was doing in Paris and what he was doing in Paris.

The trip across the Channel was uneventful, much to Terry’s relief. Once she set foot on British soil in Portsmouth, she heaved a sigh of relief. After thanking the captain and crew of the fishing boat, and getting a nice large fish for tomorrow night’s dinner, she hurried over to Jake’s car, putting her bag and wrapped fish on the backseat. 

It was still chilly, and she was glad of the heater. Terry pulled away from the dock and began the slow trip to Brandonshire, unfamiliar with the roads at night. For some reason, Craig and the guys usually managed to land in Folkestone, maybe because it was a shorter distance to Calais. 

GGGGG

The six men were exhausted by the time they settled into the belly of the submarine for the trip back to England. Craig and Actor had had no sleep for the past two days. The others had managed a cat nap here and there. Casino, Goniff, Chief and Charlie lined one metal bench along the left bulkhead, leaving more room for Garrison and Actor on the bench along the opposite bulkhead.

Actor leaned back and closed his eyes. Sleep would not come. He had developed the Warden’s habit of staying awake the entire mission and found it hard to relax until they were back at the mansion. Funny how it had begun to seem like home, especially to someone who had not had any place to call home for many years, just numerous apartments and flats all over Europe and both coasts of the United States.

Craig rose and went to get a cup of coffee from the mess. He would not sleep either until they were back at the mansion. Returning to the bench, he sat and took a sip of the hot liquid. He set the cup on the bench beside him, one hand on it in case of heavy seas. His eyes closed as his head tilted back against the bulkhead, but his mind was awhirl trying to review every moment of the mission and determine what had gone wrong and what they could have done to prevent it.

Casino’s mind went to other more pleasant things, like their leave in London. That little Peggy had been a hot number. He’d have to look her up again the next time they got a pass to London. She had nice padding in all the right curves and wasn’t a bad kisser. Kissing - that brought his mind to the kiss in the Mucky Duck. Now Terry could kiss. It was no wonder the Italian did it so much with her. Casino frowned as he remembered the reason behind the kiss.

It wasn't often Casino asked the confidence man's advice, but this time he figured he might get some answers. "Hey, Actor?"

"What?" asked the Italian, not opening his eyes.

"How long do yuh figure it'll be before Terry gets over that mess in France?"

That brought the con man's eyes open. He frowned at Casino. "Why?"

"Well, she ain't over it yet."

Actor and Garrison both sat up straighter at that. Craig remained silent, figuring he would learn more from listening to the cons discuss it amongst themselves than he would by asking questions. 

"And why do you say that?" asked Actor cautiously. He knew it to be true but didn't think the others were aware. "What happened?"

Casino made a face and shook his head. "She got to the pub before Goniff and me."

And didn't follow my advice, thought Actor in frustration.

"Some guy was bothering her when we got there."

Craig settled back with relief, knowing his sister. "What did she do, deck him?"

"Naw. She was tryin' to bluff her way out of it. I went to get her and she told the jerk I was her husband and showed him a wedding ring."

Actor shrugged his eyebrows, "At least she was thinking quickly."

"Why was she wearing a wedding ring?" questioned her brother.

Actor looked askance at the Warden. "Countess Mancini was checked into the Windsor. Really, Lieutenant, do you think an establishment of that caliber would allow a single woman to share a suite with two men unless she was married or related to one of them?"

"Two?" frowned Craig in confusion.

"We did not account for Casino and Goniff's presence," explained the confidence man in his usual condescending manner. "The Conte and Contessa Mancini checked in with . . ."

"The hired help," inserted Chief.

This brought chuckles from Garrison’s men. It wasn’t often the quiet Indian came out with something funny.

Actor was aware Garrison was watching him for a response. “I think Teresa is doing remarkably well under the circumstances. Given time, I believe she will gain her confidence back.” Actor was not sure just how much Garrison wanted discussed about Teresa in front of a stranger and Charlie was listening with apparent interest. The con man closed his eyes again, cutting off further queries from the safecracker. It didn’t stop the lieutenant.

Craig’s voice was quiet, so it could not be heard by the others. “Is that why you took her with you?”

Actor opened one eye to look at the older brother. His voice as quiet as Garrison’s, he answered, “For the most part. I also thought she could use some time away from the mansion and the Fox for some pleasant pastimes.”

“What kind of pleasant pastimes?” There was more than a hint of suspicion in the lieutenant’s voice.

“Dancing, dinner, a museum,” said Actor firmly. He normally would not have answered that question, but it would only cause more grief for Teresa if he didn’t. His other eye opened and pinned Craig with a hard look. “Surely by now you know there is not a one of us who would harm Teresa.”

“I do,” assured Garrison. “Sometimes it’s hard to not be a big brother.”

“If I were in your circumstances, I would probably react in the same way,” acknowledged the con man. “But, please Warden, do not send her after me again when I am with a lady friend. It annoys me terribly and Teresa’s cheeks display such a wide array of red tones.” The corner of his mouth turned up in amusement at the memory now that his anger at the girl’s intrusion had subsided.

Craig’s eyebrow lifted at that. He thought about it and grinned. “I can’t wait to see what she does to me in retaliation,” he admitted.

Actor’s grin widened. “She will probably try.”

“Oh, I know she will,” said Craig.

“As she should,” said Actor with a superior tone. “Sometimes, you deserve it, Warden. Good night.” He closed his eyes again.

Craig stared at the Italian in surprise at that pronouncement. He should have been angry, but the con man was right in this case. He knew he had been reacting to his own circumstances and taking it out on his sister. And . . . there was a tiny smile tickling Actor’s mouth.

Charlie was sitting beside Chief. “So, who is Terry?”

“Warden’s sister,” replied Chief.

“She go on missions with you?” asked Charlie.

“Sometimes.”

“Something happen to her?” Charlie persisted.

“Mission went bad,” said Chief shortly. “Ain’t none of your business, Man.”

“Sorry.” He didn’t receive a response to that.

GGGGG

Terry parked the car in the alley behind the Blue Fox, picked up her belongings and let herself in through the back door. It was after two in the morning, the bar should have closed. She walked through the storage room, filled with boxes and shelves of liquor and extra glassware, to poke her head past the curtain into the bar. 

Kit was finishing the cleaning up. She looked at her friend and shook her head. “About time you got back. It go okay?”

“Piece of cake,” said Terry stepping into the big room.

“Wanna drink?” asked the Gallagher girl.

“Only if you’re driving me back to the mansion.”

Kit reached for the bottle of Jack Daniels and poured a shot, handing it to Terry. She eyed the bag Terry was carrying and the clothing she had on. “Nice outfit,” she remarked sarcastically.

“Worked for me,” said Terry draining the shot glass. “I need to stop at my flat and change clothes before I go home, just in case Craig got there before me.”

“He didn’t.” Kit washed the dirty glass and added it to the others drying on a towel on the bar. “They’re hauling him and the guys to London to debrief before they’re letting them come home.”

Terry stared at her friend. “How in the heck do you know that?”

Kit grinned. “We have friendly informers in G-2. I was keeping up on Craig just in case.”

“Anybody hurt?” asked Terry with concern.

“Don’t know that,” replied Kit. “They did get the two-footed package they were after.”

“Speaking of package and informers,” said Terry. “I have what Jake wanted and I have some information that needs to get to G-2. You have a way of doing that?”

Kit nodded. “Let’s take it downstairs to Melinda.”

“Where’s Madge?” asked Terry as the two of them went down the back stairs to the basement.

“We do give her some time off once in awhile.”

A young blond Englishwoman was manning the desk with the radio and the Morse code transmitter. She looked up at the French woman accompanying Kit.

The red head gave the introductions. “Melinda, Terry. She’s joined us officially now.”

“Welcome to our little happy family,” said the blond. “You have something for me?”

“Thanks. Sure do.” 

Terry set her bag on an empty chair and pulled the paper wrapped fish out of it, handing the fish to Kit.

Kit looked at it dubiously. “What is this?”

“Dinner.”

“You brought a fish with you?” Kit asked in disbelief.

“Among some other things. I did my shopping while I was over there.”

Terry took out the box, lifted one edge of the false bottom and removed the two scraps of paper. One was in French and the other was the one she had written. 

“The one in English needs to get to G-2,” she said.

“Not a problem,” replied Melinda confidently.

Terry took the fish back from Kit and placed it back in the bag with the box of rolls beside it. She hung the bag off her forearm by the straps and smiled at Kit.

“I am more than ready to go home now,” she said with a tired grin. “Nice meeting you,” she said to Melinda.

“I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again,” smiled the woman.

Kit drove Terry to her flat and waited in the car while Terry went up and removed the makeup and changed into pants and shirt before driving out to the mansion. As predicted, it was empty and cold.

Terry went inside and made straight for the kitchen. The food was put in the refrigerator and a fire was started in the wood burning stove. From there, Terry went to the common room and each of the bedrooms and started a fire in all the fireplaces. She turned down beds and hoped the rooms would be warm by the time the men returned. That done, she crawled into her own bed and was immediately asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

The ringing of the telephone jangled Terry from her sleep. She glanced at the clock, groaning at the 9 a.m. it showed. With a sigh, she tossed the covers back and padded barefoot, in her nightgown, downstairs, reaching over the railing to snag the receiver and lift it to her ear.

“Mansion,” she said.

“Did I wake you up?” her brother’s weary voice sounded in her ear.

“Yes, but it’s okay,” she replied.

“You work last night?”

“Yeah.” It wasn’t quite a lie. “Where are you?”

“G-2 in London,” said Craig. “We’re leaving now.”

“Anybody hurt?” asked Terry.

“Goniff and Chief,” he answered, quickly adding, “but not too bad.”

“Okay, I’ll be waiting for you.”

“Thanks, Sis.”

After hanging up, Terry went upstairs and took a shower while she had hot water. From there she started her routine of making sure bedrooms were going to be warm enough when the men got home, and beds were turned down. A fire was started in both common rooms.

Moving to the kitchen, she stoked the fire in the AGA and set about making up a few sandwiches. It would be close to noon before the men returned. Coming back at this hour usually meant they were exhausted and only wanted to sleep.

Satisfied with her preparations, Terry took out the box of rolls and started shredding them with a fork. She had known they would be stale by the time she got to them this morning, but they would make fine bread crumbs to use as a stuffing for the fish. The box was placed in the common room fire to destroy the evidence of where she had gotten it.

Terry had been correct in her assessment of when the men would arrive back. Craig came in the door first, exhaustion written all over him. He threw an arm around her in a quick hug before dropping his duffle bag in his office. 

Chief was next to enter. Terry went up to him, noting the bulk around his upper left arm under the sleeve. “Does that need looking at?” she asked.

“Naw,” replied the Indian. “Warden took care of it after it happened, and it was looked at in the infirmary in London.” He looked at her questioningly. “Food?”

“Kitchen,” replied Terry, gesturing for him to go on.

Actor came in next, standing straight and tall as always, but his face was more lined than usual. Something was bothering the big man, but Terry knew better than to ask. “There’s lunch in the kitchen,” she told him.

“Thank you, cara,” he replied absently, heading in that direction.

Garrison leaned against the newel post, watching for his other two men. He knew Terry was going to have a fit and he was right.

Casino came through the door and dropped two duffle bags in front of the coat tree. His face broke into a tired grin. “Hi, Babe.”

Terry gave him a smile that froze on her face when the last member of the group came in.

“Goniff!”

The Englishman’s bruised and battered face broke into a big smile. “Hi, Terry Love.”

Terry hurried up to him and stopped to examine his face with a worried expression. She knew the signs of interrogation. “God, are you all right?”

“Oh, I’m fine, Love,” scoffed the pickpocket. He paused and a twinkle came to his eyes. In an exaggerated tone he said, “Well maybe not all right. I think I could use a hug.”

Terry didn’t see her brother roll his eyes at Goniff as she broke into an affectionate grin of amusement. She held her arms open for him to move into her embrace. As she wrapped arms around his lean waist, he rested his chin on her shoulder and gave a wink to Garrison. Craig just shook his head.

“How come he gets away with that?” complained Casino.

Goniff pulled back, keeping his hands on Terry’s waist. “It’s me charm and beautiful face,” he cracked.

Terry rested her hands on his shoulders and looked hard into his blue eyes. In a quiet voice, she asked, “Are you all right? Really?”

“I’m okay,” he answered just as seriously, then smiled brightly at her again.

“Go get something to eat,” she said with an answering smile.

“Come on, Limey,” said Casino, “I’m hungry.”

Terry watched the two disappear around the corner into the dining room with a smile on her face. She turned to her brother. Craig was shaking his head with a small smile on his face and gave a short chuckle at the two overgrown kids. There was something about him that told Terry he wasn’t okay. She walked up to him.

“What’s wrong?”

Garrison shook his head. “Not now.”

To Terry’s surprise, Craig pulled her in for a hug. She returned the tight squeeze. His voice was quiet in her ear. “Have I told you I’m glad you’re here?”

Terry tilted her head back to look at him with a questioning frown. “Uh, no.”

“I’m glad you’re here.”

Terry looked into the seawater and brown hazel eyes. “You know you can always talk to me, Brother.”

He nodded. “After I get some sleep . . . then we’ll talk . . . just you and me.” He gave her a quick squeeze. “Right now, I’m hungry.”

An arm around each other, they went to the kitchen. Craig reached over Casino and grabbed a couple halves of sandwich before taking his seat. Terry made the rounds of the table, filling glasses with cold milk from the pitcher, being sure that she touched a shoulder or a head in passing. The men were too quiet and that worried her.

After they were finished eating and had gone up to their rooms, Terry cleaned up the kitchen and went into the library to get a book. She needed something lighter than the strategy book from West Point. A novel in hand, she went up to her room and lay down on her bed to read. She never made it to the end of the first chapter before falling asleep.

It was close to five in the afternoon when Terry awakened again. She put aside Jane Eyre and ventured downstairs. The house was quiet, but the door to Garrison’s office was open. Craig was sitting at his desk, cigarette in one hand, pencil in the other and a yellow pad of paper in front of him. Terry perched on the corner of his desk, reached over to pluck the cigarette from him, and took a drag before handing it back.

“You don’t get enough sleep,” she remarked.

“Too much on my mind,” he replied.

“Want to unload some of it?” his sister offered.

Craig nodded. Terry rose from her seat and went to shut and lock the door. She didn’t expect the other men to be up for a couple more hours at least but was not going to take a chance of intrusion. She went back and sat down in the chair facing her brother.

“What happened?”

Garrison filled her in on the mission problems: Charlie’s botched escape and having to rescue him from the hospital; the agent’s subsequent attempt at suicide; Goniff’s capture, interrogation and rescue; the broken-down truck that almost cost them the Englishman’s life; and getting back late.

“That wasn’t the worst part,” said Craig with a confused frown on his face. “We got yanked to London for ‘debriefing.’ Interrogation was more like it.”

“For five hours?” asked Terry incredulously.

Garrison nodded and took a drag off his cigarette, lighting the next one from the butt before smashing it in the half-filled ashtray. They kept Goniff the longest and Actor almost as long. The only thing Actor would tell me was that Col. Yates is a ‘cazzo’.”

Terry almost choked. “That’s pretty strong coming out of Actor.”

“I know,” said Craig. “And he’s right. It was like this colonel was trying to get us to say we had screwed up and everything that went wrong was our fault. He even said I should have left Goniff to the firing squad.”

“What!” Terry’s eyes flashed in anger. “What did Goniff say?”

“That Yates wanted to know why Goniff wasn’t fluent in German, French and Italian.”

“Oh, come on, Craig! Those guys butcher English. Actor tries, but he’s never going to get them fluent in anything. That’s why we have him and you.”

Garrison couldn’t help grinning at that, but then he sobered. “It’s like Yates is trying to find an excuse to send them back to prison.”

“Isn’t everybody?” asked Terry sourly. “So, what’s this Yates like? What kind of lettuce does he have on his chest?”

Craig cocked his head and squinted at her, trying to remember what he had seen. “Infantry. Good conduct. No purple heart.”

“What campaigns?” asked Terry.

Craig thought about it. “European and American.”

“Parachute? Anything?” persisted Terry. A shake of her brother’s head told her everything. “Desk jockey with no experience. Probably got promoted because they couldn’t fire him.”

Garrison nodded with a wry grin.

“Well, we’re just going to have to watch our backs a little bit more.” Terry eyed her brother. “I’ve been reading your West Point manual.”

“I wondered if it was you or Actor who took it,” said Craig. “What’s on your mind?”

“How do you reconcile what it is you and the guys are doing with the idiotic way you were taught?”

Craig frowned. “It’s . . . difficult.” He stubbed out his cigarette and leaned back in his chair, gazing at the ceiling lost in thought. “The more I’m with the guys, the more what they do makes sense.” He chewed on it a while. “I find more and more I prefer their company over the other officers my age. I don’t have anything in common with the army guys anymore. They talk about their strategies and I just want to laugh. They have no clue what it is we do or why.” He sighed. “And then there are always the questions about why I’m still a Lieutenant.”

Terry smiled. “Because if you accepted a promotion, you would be taken away from the guys and put in a regular infantry unit. Kinda hard on the career army plans, isn’t it?”

“Oh, I might get there eventually,” said Craig, no longer entirely sure that was the direction he really wanted to continue in. “I’m afraid the guys wouldn’t get an even break. They’d end up back in prison, or with a commanding officer they couldn’t work with.”

He continued that train of thought aloud. “Actor could lead them, no problem.”

“Actor doesn’t want to lead them,” said Terry. “Besides the army wouldn’t let him.”

Craig shook his head and looked at his sister. “I can’t just walk out on them. Stupid, right?”

“No,” said Terry quietly, “Not stupid. I think you’ve earned their loyalty and they’ve earned yours. You guys aren’t just a group, you’re a team.”

“You might as well include yourself in that, Sister,” admitted Craig.

Terry gave a little smile. “I trust them, and I know they’ll back me up. I just have to make sure they know I can and will back them.”

“You’re getting there,” said Craig, “considering what little training you had when you first got here. You just need your confidence boosted back up again.”

Terry shrugged her eyebrows at that. She glanced at her watch. “I guess I better start getting stuff ready for supper. I don’t imagine you guys have had much more than the sandwiches I made.”

“The usual bread and cheese,’ grinned Craig.

“Well, I have a little more than that.” She grinned back at him.

Garrison wasn’t ready to let her go just yet. “Terry? Are you all right?”

“Yeah, why?” she answered brightly.

“The men seem to be worried that you haven’t gotten a grip on yourself yet after that mess in France.” He watched her face.

Terry looked away and didn’t answer for a moment. When she did, her words were careful. “I have had some time to work it out in my mind. It could have been worse, but thanks to Chief and Actor, it wasn’t. I think I’ll be all right now. I won’t let you down and I won’t let them down.”

“I’m not worried about you letting any of us down,” said Craig. “I’m worried about you and the state of your mind.”

Terry smiled, “My mind is fine. It just has taken me a little while to figure that out is all.”

“Anything I can do to help?” her brother asked with genuine concern.

Terry smiled. “Not that I can think of. It’s something I have to work out on my own. But thanks for asking.”

She went to the kitchen and fired the oven up again. It was no problem to cook for five men and herself, but she was used to an abundance of readily available food. She would have to work on getting that garden in. If she had success with it, she could can vegetables for next winter instead of having to rely on what was available in the small store in Brandonshire or what she could buy at inflated prices off the black market. There was just not enough food available to keep the five active men, who got little to eat when they were on the Continent, fed and healthy. She was learning quickly how to extend the meager rations she had to feed them all at least two good meals a day.

She mixed up the bread crumbs with reconstituted powdered egg and added herbs from the little pots she kept in the kitchen window. To this she added some diced onion. This mixture was stuffed into the body cavity of the fish she had brought home. She placed it into a covered roaster with a bit of water to steam it with. Raiding the refrigerator produced the broccoli, some carrots, another onion, and a few potatoes. Each by itself was not enough for a meal, but when cleaned and cut up, seasoned and oiled in another roasting pan, they made a sizable amount. The cabbage was shredded and spread in yet another pan to which was added a tin of canned milk, salt and pepper and then topped with dry bread crumbs from the pantry and dotted with butter. This too was covered. The vegetable dishes were cooked first and then the fish. 

It was eight at night before she had dinner ready. The men came straggling into the dining room, lured by the smell of hot food. The pans were placed in the middle of the table, covers removed. Craig stared at the large fish.

“Terry, where did you get that?” he demanded accusingly. “You could not have gotten that in Brandonshire.”

Terry’s eyebrows rose in indignation. “Craig Garrison, my priority is to get decent meals on the table for you guys. If you’re going to start questioning my methods of providing those meals, I’ll just put you back on K rations.”

“Oh, no you don’t, Babe!” objected Casino strenuously before Garrison could get his mouth open.

“Wot’s wrong with K rations?” asked Goniff. “I like the raisins and the chocolate.”

Everybody stared at the pickpocket with the multicolored face.

“You would,” grumbled Casino.

Garrison was not to be put off. “Seriously, Terry, where did you get a fish that big?”

Terry could be just as stubborn as her brother. “Seriously, Craig, I’m not revealing my sources, so just shut up and eat it.” She smiled snottily at him.

Her smile widened as he glared at her. Finally, he shook his head and held his plate out for Chief to serve up a piece of the fish and stuffing. 

The hungry men devoured the offerings on the table. Replete and satisfied, they all got up from the table afterwards and the men headed for the common room, except Chief, who stayed to help Terry with the dishes.

Actor paused in front of Terry and tipped her head back with a finger under the chin. “Thank you, Teresa, for that wonderful dinner.” He bent and kissed her.

“You are very welcome, Actor,” she replied, a smile on her face. “At least somebody appreciates my cooking.”

Casino reached for her wrist and turned her around to face him, sending a smirk toward the Italian. “Oh, we appreciate it, Babe,” he said to Terry. Before she could react, he bent his head and gave her a quick hard kiss on the mouth.

She stared at him in surprise. “Casino!”

Laughing, more at the con man’s pursed lips than at Terry, the safecracker walked cockily away. “Can’t let Beautiful have all the dessert to himself.” Terry’s booted foot connected with Casino’s backside, making him jump. “Hey!” he objected. “You don’t do that to Actor.”

Goniff had watched the whole thing. “She can’t get ‘er ruddy foot up ‘igh enough to kick ‘im in the arse,” he teased.

Terry looked between the haughtily indignant Actor and the two grinning fools. She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. That was even harder when Garrison stepped around the corner to see what the commotion was about and glared at Casino and Goniff.

“It’s all right, Craig,” Terry managed to speak calmly. “The boys are just being boys.”

“I hope I am not being included in that assessment,” Actor’s indignation was growing.

Casino opened his mouth to retort back to the con man, but the look on Garrison’s face stopped him. “Just kiddin’ around, Warden,” he said.

“Watch it,” was all Garrison said.

Terry shook her head, no longer bothering to try to conceal her laugh. She turned to the waiting Indian who had been observing silently. “Come on, Chief, let’s go do those dishes.” She picked up a couple plates before following the youngest of the men into the kitchen.

GGGGG

Actor went upstairs to do the unpacking he had been too tired and out of sorts to tackle when they had arrived back at the mansion. His dirty fisherman clothes were neatly placed in the clothes hamper. That done, he turned to the pouch with the supplies he may have needed to make any disguises for this past mission. Actor opened his makeup case to return the items and his hand paused over the top tray. Tubes of makeup and rouge had been moved, and not by him. Teresa. She was the only one here while they were gone. But what need did she have of his makeup supplies? He did not mind if she had borrowed some things, but the why was leaving a niggling worry in the back of his mind. He wanted some answers.

Actor strolled casually into the kitchen and leaned against the door jamb, thumbs hooked in his pants pockets. He eyed the back of Teresa’s head contemplatively. Chief looked up from drying a plate and did a double take at the expression on the con man’s face.

“Chief,” began Actor casually. “Would you mind giving me a moment alone with Teresa? I need to speak with her on a private matter.”

Both of them at the sink paused and looked at the Italian. Teresa’s face was guileless.

“Sure, Actor,” said Chief. He didn’t know what was up, but he wasn’t going to ask either. 

The Indian handed the dishtowel to Actor on his way out. The con man moved to the sink beside Teresa and picked up a plate to dry it. Terry continued to wash the dishes and place them in the rinse water.

“What’s on your mind, caro,” she asked when nothing was forthcoming from the man.

“I think you know,” he replied just as casually.

“Probably,” she said.

Actor set the dry plate on the table and turned to lean back against the sink, head tilted to watch the girl’s reaction. “If you need to borrow from me, I have no objections. If you were trying to hide it from me, then I must teach you how to rifle a drawer or case so it is undetectable.”

“I wasn’t trying to hide it,” said Terry, dropping the dishcloth in the soapy water and resting her hands on the edge of the sink as she leaned back to look him in the eye. “I figured there was a method to your madness, so I tried to put everything back pretty much as I found it.”

Actor nodded. “What did you need it for?”

Terry sucked in her cheeks and contemplated an answer for a moment. “I’m not going to make up a story for you,” she said. “You’d see right through it. So I’m afraid I will just have to say that it’s really none of your business . . .or anyone else’s for that matter.”

That answer did not assuage his concerns. “Is it legal?” His first thought was that she had decided to try B & E on her own. He watched her eyebrows rise at that.

“I never thought about it that way,” she said. “I suppose it’s legal.”

That let out all of the cons’ larcenous pastimes but opened another possibility. “Are you working with your sister?”

“No,” replied Terry firmly. “End of discussion. Dry or send Chief back in.”

She watched the narrow-eyed expression on Actor’s face and realized with a start the man was worried about her. Wiggling a wet finger at him she said, “Come down here, caro.”

He leaned over in front of her. Terry stretched up and gave him a soft kiss. “It’s all right,” she tried to reassure him.

Straightening, he looked hard at her. “Somehow I do not think that is the case.” Actor threw the dishtowel on the table with a bit of force and walked away.

Terry winced and let him go. Oh, she thought, this double life she was about to embark on was not going to be easy.


End file.
